


Heat

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-05
Updated: 1999-05-05
Packaged: 2018-11-11 01:18:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11138364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived atDue South Archive. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onDue South Archive collection profile.





	Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Heat

Hi---this is my attempt to write a DS story with the "new" Ray...I don't know if anybody's written anything yet or not, so here goes! (whew!) I do like the new Ray, although he's not really Ray (sorry if that's a spoiler), and even though I love David Marciano, I do think Callum Keith Rennie is just so cute that I wanted to write something about him and Fraser. 

A couple of asides: I invented an alternate history for Kowalski, to explain the dance chart he has on the floor of his apartment. I also paired him with Fraser, **so this is an M/M story, natch.**

(btw, feel free to email me with comments--thanks!) 

# Heat

(c) 1997, JoAnne Soper-Cook

The small apartment was quiet, dark, the only illumination being a long beam of light emanating from the half-closed bathroom door. The man in the bed shifted, clasped his hands behind his head and waited. Damned inconvenient, a freak snowstorm like this, but---a smile slid across his face---there could possibly be interesting developments, you never knew. For all that Fraser was so buttoned-up, there were depths in him just waiting to be plumbed. *And one thing I'm good at is plumbing*, Kowalski thought. 

Stanley Kowalski, better known as Ray, and who, through a vast labyrinth of undercover intrigue, was known to the outside world as Ray Vecchio. But he wasn't Ray Vecchio, not really--- just a useful facsimile while the officer in question pursued the most important case of his life. Still, Kowalski reflected sleepily, it was a role into which he fit easily, if not always comfortably. 

"Excuse me, Ray, but I wonder whether you would prefer the light left on or off?" Fraser, framed in the doorway, naked except for his boxer shorts...*Damn*! Now that was truly beautiful...but Kowalski pretended to be unaffected. It wouldn't do to move too soon and give the game away, now would it? 

"Yeah, Fraser, leave it. Just in case I need to get up, I don't want to be stubbin' my toes or something. Leave it." He watched, from underneath the fringe of his dark blond lashes while Fraser negotiated the distance from the bathroom to the bed. It was cold in the apartment, despite the heat. The chilly wind that lashed Chicago seemed to seep into the walls, shivering between the cracks in the outside masonry. 

"Ray, are you sure about this?" Fraser hesitated, the blanket clutched in his fingers. The pale light from the bathroom played across his face, did wonderful things to his blue eyes, that beautiful mouth... 

"Yeah, get in already, I'm freezing." Some discussion had ensued earlier, during the harrowing ride home, whether it would be more prudent for Kowalski to attempt the dangerous drive to Fraser's own apartment, across town, or whether Fraser should stop here. After much deliberation (needless deliberation, Kowalski thought) it was decided: and here was Fraser, burrowing under the blankets and trying to make himself as small as possible. "You know, you can take up some more of the bed, I don't bite. No need to be crouchin' there on the side or something." 

There was a small shifting movement, and Kowalski felt Fraser's foot touch his own---the foot leapt back as if burned. "Fraser, it's alright. Just relax, would you? Jesus..." There had also been discussion, in a roundabout way, about whether the two men were comfortable with this. Fraser protested that he was fine with it, told Kowalski some Inuit story, and lapsed into silence. 

There was silence now, and without realising it, Kowalski fell gently into a soft well of sleep. He was dreaming, dreaming of dancing, of the days when he danced, when it was his whole life, before the liquor-store and that bullet in the back... 

He awoke suddenly, in utter darkness, a nightmare whimper dying in his throat. 

It was really cold, now. And the bathroom light had gone out. "Christ---" He sat up, wrapped his cold fingers into his armpits. 

"What is it, Ray?" That quiet voice beside him in the darkness, calm and assured. God, wasn't Fraser afraid of anything at all? 

He forced his voice to work, override the fear. "The storm-- the snowstorm, the power's gone out." He shivered, wrapped his arms around his naked torso. "Probably cut the power to the boiler,that's why there's no heat." 

A hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright?" 

"Yes, I'm alright!" Angry,now. "Dammit, what's---" He discerned Fraser's expression, the Mountie's gentle concern, was chastened by it. "I'm sorry---dark makes me a little jumpy." 

"I see." 

"No, you don't see, Fraser." He laughed bitterly, wondered why the darkness so often pressed him into a confessional mood. "And it's not about that bank robbery and me...peeing in my pants." 

"Ah." 

There is was again, that maddening certainty. How the hell 

did Vecchio put up with this guy? "Whatta you mean, 'Ah'? Christ! How'd Vecchio put up with you, anyway?" 

"I'm sorry." Something else in his face now, some new emotion, what was it? "Perhaps we should get under the covers and keep warm. I'm sure the building manager will have the heat back on in no time." 

He drifted for awhile in the warmth, edged closer to Fraser's body...he was warm, this Mountie, and Kowalski wanted some of it for himself...he was warm, so warm...and whose arm was this, around him? 'It's alright,' his mind whispered, 'it's alright.' 

"What about the liquor store?" Fraser's soft voice, close to his ear, Fraser's warm breath, stirring the hair at the side of his face. 

"I didn't say anything." Eyes open in darkness... 

"Yes, you did, Ray. You said something about being shot in a liquor store." Fraser shifted so he was looking at him, blue eyes wide in the darkness. "And tell me, why do you have a dance chart on the floor?" 

Kowalski felt the laughter, bubbling up from his chest, whispering in his throat. "You're not going to quit till you find out, are you?" 

"If you mean I'm persistent, yes." 

"Fraser, you and Vecchio---" He wanted to ask it. "--You know there's rumours around the precinct, I just wondered---" 

"We were--are--very close." 

"Hm." He was sleepy, maybe he should sleep, but if there was this much snow, he wouldn't get in to work tomorrow, so it was okay to sleep in, be awake now and sleep late tomorrow... 

"Ray, I think I should tell you---" 

"Yeah?" His whole body was taut, every cell listening. This was important, he wanted to know this. 

"Ray and I...well, we were rather more than friends..." 

And this was something... Kowalski raised himself slightly on one arm, peered down at the Mountie. "You telling me that you and him were...?" 

Fraser hesitated before answering, and in that moment, Kowalski saw a million dark emotions chase themselves across the Mountie's face. "We were lovers." 

He felt himself blushing, inexplicably, in the darkness. There was a pause, a space of silence, while outside the wind screamed and raged, buffetting hard snow against the windowpanes. "I see." He swallowed hard. "Fraser, that day in the crypt, when I asked if you---" 

"---if I thought you were attractive. Yes, I do. Very much." 

He could breathe again, thank God. "Okay." What to say next? "Okay." The storm was building, he could hear it, shrieking outside the small apartment, while they lay cocooned inside, safe in their warmth. 

"You're a dancer, aren't you?" Fraser's hand slid gently against his shoulder, testing the texture of his skin. "What happened?" 

His throat tightened; this was dangerous territory, he couldn't talk about it, that wound was too raw... 

And Fraser's mouth, warm against his shoulder, a single point of heat in a cold and Dantean universe... "I got shot. In the back. I wasn't even a cop then, I went into a liquor store to get a bottle of wine, me and some friends, we were celebrating, we'd just got parts in this big musical, you know, a real paycheck for a change---" His throat closed together; he couldn't talk about this. 

"I'm so sorry..." Fraser's mouth, a point of heat, pressed against his neck, and Kowalski turned his face and kissed the Mountie, tasting him, the warm, clean taste of him. He moved so that he could take Fraser into his arms, feel the broad expanse of that muscled back underneath his palms. This was good, so good; this felt like being healed, a miracle... 

He spoke again, when his mouth was freed, whispering, his face close to Fraser's... "I went into this liquor store and there was a robbery in progress, and I dunno, he didn't like the look of me, and me, you know what a coward I am, I ran---" 

"---you aren't a coward---" 

"And he shot me in the back." 

Fraser's fingers, probing for the tiny scar and finding it, in the curve of his back, close to the spine. Another lingering kiss, hands moving in the darkness, an increase of heat despite the storm that swirled and shrieked outside. 

"...it messed me up, really bad. I tried rehab but it wasn't enough, they couldn't fix my back, and...it was all over." He smiled, a lopsided smile. "That's when I decided to become a cop." 

He took Fraser's face between his palms, kissed him almost savagely, fingers grasping the back of his neck, his tongue slipping effortlessly between the Mountie's parted lips... 

It was warm, warmer than it had ever been. He lay back, felt the covers being pulled off him, the cool air caressing his chest, turning his nipples to small, hard pebbles...he felt a warm mouth, sliding on his flat stomach, sliding lower, and he realised that he was powerfully aroused, wanting this. 'Do you think I'm attractive?' 'Yes, very much so.' 

There was nothing but this; his brain stuttered into silence, his long fingers moving to the back of Fraser's neck, sliding into his dark hair. His back arched, hips rising up to meet Fraser's mouth, as he was swallowed whole, engulfed in heat... 

Lips, sliding on him, drawing the length of his cock into heat; lips, fluttering on his swollen cockhead, drawing sensation, tugging him inexorably over some invisible precipice... "I just want you to love me, like you loved him..." Whispering, not realising, but whispering...hands sliding on the Mountie's broad, naked back, hips arching up to meet that mouth, again and again...other hands, cradling his buttocks, fingers sliding between the cleft of his ass, caressing him, as he gave himself up and climaxed powerfully... 

"Do you want this?" Fraser was positioned at his entrance, supporting himself on his arms. "If you've never done this---" 

"I have--" Whispering, hoarsely, needing this. "I have." 

And Fraser coming into him gently, between his parted legs; Fraser's body cradled by his spread knees, till he was buried deep inside. "I don't want to hurt you..." 

"You're not hurting me!" Do it, he thought...please, do it...incredibly, his cock was getting hard again, wanting Fraser... 

He wrapped his legs around the Mountie's waist, pulling Fraser tight against him, wanting all of Fraser, more than he could possibly give. The cold prickled his skin, and he drew himself tight around the core of heat that penetrated him. 

Bodies clasped together in the cold, moving slowly, Fraser riding him, thrusting deep into his guts. 'This is a dream,' he thought, 'this isn't possibly happening' But it was inextricably real: lying here in the freezing cold, giving pleasure to this man, and being pleasured in return; it was almost as good as dancing... 

"Benny..." He pressed his mouth against Fraser's neck, turned his face and kissed him deeply, as Fraser grunted and came, his back arched, eyes closed, pressed into him, their skins sliding together... 

'I could love you,' he thought, and wondered what had happened to the cold. 

"What did Ray call you? Did he call you Fraser, or Ben, or Benton, or Benny?" Lying in the Mountie's arms, warm, comforted. "I'd like to know, just so---" Just so I don't remind you by calling you the same thing that he did, just so I don't make it more painful than it needs to be. 

He wondered if what had happened here would ever happen again. 

And Fraser kissed him, tenderly. "You can call me whatever you wish," he whispered, and Kowalski saw that the Mountie's blue eyes were wet with tears. "Ray used to call me Benny." 

And there was heat, in the midst of a terrible cold. 

The End 


End file.
